


Idk my bff Drift

by Sonamae



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonamae/pseuds/Sonamae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day Rodimus asks his best friend to frag him.  Things go a little deeper than he expects them to, but then again they're pretty much the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idk my bff Drift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Synodic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synodic/gifts), [cosmicpowernap](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cosmicpowernap).



> I needed a break from another thing I' working on so have this really short fluffy monstrosity.

 “Do you want to frag around with me later?” Rodimus asked after practice one day. Drift raised an eyebrow ridge as he slid his swords back into their sheaths and hummed. “You don’t have to, I’m just pent up.” He watched as Drift shrugged.

 “Sure.” Drift picked up Rodimus’ disarmed sword and turned to place it back on the wall. “But you owe me thirteen more kata’s before that.”

 That was how it started.

 Drift would wear down Rodimus in the training room, then go back to either of their berth’s and lazily frag one another. Neither of them really spoke, but they made sure overloads were had when they were wanted.

 The interfacing between them was pretty vanilla, and the few times things got intense they quickly backed off. Like the one time Rodimus had been lazily sliding his spike in and out of Drift’s valve and he’d leaned in for a kiss, only to have Drift kiss him back and murmur some other bots name. They’d rolled away from one another and taken cold showers, then crawled back into the berth to talk.

 Rodimus never really said anyone’s name in the berth, but Drift often whispered names while he screwed his optics shut and rode out an overload. Sometimes when he’d be fragging Rodimus he’d ask him to roll over so he didn’t have to look him in the eye, and Rodimus complied without ever asking why. He knew there were things Drift just _didn’t_ want to talk about or face, and he was okay with that. Drift would go see Rung on his own time, at his own pace.

 Their relationship probably wasn’t a healthy one, but Rodimus tried his best to keep it stable. Keep it _sane_. They were in love, sure, but it wasn’t romantically inclined. Neither of them would ever think of becoming the others conjux, but they talked lazily at night about filling out Amica forms. That seemed inevitable for them, like a speed bump down the road that was simply a mound of legal documents they’d have to bother with.

 Still, it seemed… worth it.

 One night at the beginning of the month, one they normally fragged on, Rodimus asked who would be spiking who, and Drift had halted mid-swing. Rodimus counted the openings he’d been given and waited, but when nothing happened he relaxed his stance and put the swords away for them both.

 “You want to talk about it?” he muttered after a while, and Drift slowly nodded.

 “Not here though.” Drift reached out and Rodimus took his hand without any hesitation. They went back to his room and Drift told him about a bot named Wing and another named Gasket, and how it was too close to the anniversary of their deaths to want to be fragging _anyone_. All Drift wanted to do was be sad and eat ice cream. Maybe gain a few tons and then work it all off by the end of the week.

 Rodimus had smiled and kissed him tenderly. “Do you want me to do that with you so you’re not alone?” And Drift had nodded slowly, smiling for the first time in a while. They curled up on the berth that night and slept, Drift the little spoon, and Rodimus made a mental note to get the Amica papers in the morning.

 They spent that week eating fattening foods and blowing off every appointment they had. Every message Rodimus got he replied with ‘Hanging out can’t talk.’ When Megatron repeatedly requested that he tell him who he was hanging out with, Rodimus had forward the email to Drift, who laughed and replied with the worst possible answer.

 ‘Idk my bff Drift’

 They’d both gotten memos about proper grammar and spelling for a month after that from both Megatron and Minimus. Neither of them read them.

 When Rodimus asked Drift again if he wanted to frag, Drift nodded and dragged him into a hallway. This being the first time either of them did anything that wasn’t in a berth.

 Rodimus had screamed in surprised delight at his overload, Drift’s tongue shoved deep between the folds of his valve. He hadn’t done something like this in years. He wasn’t going to lie, but he really loved it.

 They signed the Amica papers the next day and Drift smiled goofily as Ultra Magnus read off his new ‘Emergency Contact.’

 ‘Rodimus Prime’

 Their lazy fragging had more emotion in it now, more kissing. Rodimus learned to tell when Drift was faking it just to hurry Rodimus toward his overload, and he also learned what spots made Drift’s thighs tense with pleasure. He found out what made Drift’s cables strain as he tried to arch into a touch. He learned that Drift adored kissing lazily for hours and building his charge, but he hated dirty talk with a passion.

 Drift mapped out every inch he could reach of Rodimus’ body with his lips and glossa, and found out that being the big spoon made Rodimus fall asleep faster and feel safer.

 They got confronted by random bots all the time about ‘being conjux endura or not,’ and it made them laugh so much that Drift actually blew a fuse in his fans. The bots weren’t unfounded in their confusion though.

 They were far closer than average Amica’s, but they still couldn’t see themselves as conjux. They’d lay in bed and whisper ‘I love you’ until they fell asleep, each knowing it meant something out of the norm, but they weren’t conjux material.

 Rodimus would fall asleep wrapped in Drift’s EM field and never think that this was a bad idea.


End file.
